


one small hitch

by cowboykillers



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Meet the Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 03:44:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11304993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykillers/pseuds/cowboykillers
Summary: Honestly, he didn't mean for things to get this out of hand. There's just something about Jocelyn that gets up under Leonard's skin even after all these years, and before he knows it, he's accidentally announced he's bringing Jim home to meet the family.The only problem is, he and Jim aren't even dating. They're certainly not engaged, no matter what the tabloids that made it to Georgia seem to think, but thankfully, Jim understands that sometimes these things just get away from you.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Written in homage to the movie One Small Hitch, which I hold near and dear to my heart. The basic premise (pretend to be engaged and then for realsies fall in love) is intact, but otherwise, it doesn't resemble the film too much. You should watch it, though; it's great.

Some days went from bad to worse. Those days, at least, a man could prepare himself for. When a bad day started to snowball into awful, there was time to brace for the big hit, and while that might not always make it easier to stomach, it was how Leonard preferred to meet shitty circumstances. Then again, in the time he’s known Jim Kirk, he’s learned how to adapt to all manner of horrific situations being sprung on him with barely enough notice to breathe through the realization, so he’d like to think he’s grown as a person and is better equipped to handle the unpleasantness that his life deems fit to toss his way.

Then again, when it comes to Jocelyn McCoy — excuse him, Treadway — he hasn’t grown as much of a person at all, it turns out.

It’s only through sheer bewilderment that he’s kept his mouth shut while she rants at him, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright, because never in all his life would he have thought his ex-wife would rip him a new one for deciding to date again.

“And what gets me, Leonard, what just really — the most upsetting part about this is that Joanna had to find out from a news article.” Her hands flutter in front of her face, frustration and irritation obvious in the way she tucks her hair back behind her ears sharply. “I don’t care if you see other people, I really don’t, but I deserved more warning than this. I could’ve broken the news to her and it was downright mean of you to keep it from me."

He finally finds his voice, baffled and angry as he tosses his own hands in the air. “You’ve lost your whole damn mind, woman. I haven’t been-"

“ _Don’t,_ ” Jocelyn snaps, and the command in her tone very nearly makes his vision white out from sheer disbelief and anger. “Don’t look me in the eye and tell me you’re not seeing that, that James Kirk. We saw the pictures and it’s all anybody can talk about, which is more than I can say for you."

“Jim?” His voice rises an octave, the flush on his face matching hers, born of an equal temper. “This is about _Jim_?"

“Who else would it be about? And I want to talk about that, too, because if you’re going to be bringing him into Joanna’s life, we need to clear some things up."

There’s something about the way Jocelyn says _I want to talk about that_ that digs right up under his skin and takes him back to when everything started unraveling for them the first time. It throws him off the course of the argument, and suddenly the most important thing he can think to do is knock her down off the high horse she’s swung up on over the course of their conversation.

“Surely you don’t have a problem with the man who’s, oh, saved the _galaxy_  more than once in recent memory. What could you possibly have against him, Joss?"

Her lips thin, and he can tell without being able to see more than her head and shoulders that she’s fisted her hands on her hips, knuckles digging inward. Stiffly, she says, “He has a certain sort of reputation, and I would have thought — he’s just not who I pictured you with, Leonard."

“Because you know all about what makes me happy,” he shoots back, a bitterness he’d thought he’d buried years ago lacing his words. When she flinches, he doesn’t find it nearly as satisfying as he would have thought. “Look. Jim’s a great man. I’m not going to stand here and listen to you say otherwise."

“No, I’m sure you aren’t,” she says evenly, and Jocelyn’s always aimed true: he knows exactly what she means to say, but before he can lose the tenuous hold he still has on his temper, she asks, “Are you bringing him by?"

If he could see much more than red, Leonard likes to think that this is where he’d take control of the conversation, clear the air between them and move on like a normal, sane person. Unfortunately, if there’s one thing that his ex-wife has always been good at, it’s pushing every single button he owns. That, he’s sure, is why he’s gripped by a reckless, insane idea and chooses to run with it.

“I am.” He brings a hand up, pointing an accusing finger at her, voice surprisingly level for the amount of horseshit that comes spewing out of his mouth in the next breath: “And you’re gonna play nice with him, Jocelyn, because I’m serious. Real serious. I want him to meet Jojo."

Jocelyn sucks in a quick breath, and then the line of her shoulders sags, a peculiar look crossing her face. “I need to meet him first, Leonard."

The unfairness of the demand floods his throat and near to smothers him, and she must see some of it on his face, because she sighs and shakes her head. “Please. I know you’ve already made up your mind about him, but I’ve never even met the man. I’ve hardly spoken to _you_ in years, Leonard. This is a lot."

The word is sour in his mouth when he spits, “Fine.” and ends the transmission, not quite trusting himself to say more.

Of course, the moment he’s faced with his own reflection in the vid screen, he realizes exactly what he’s done.

He fumbles with his communicator, paging Jim before the panic can fully set in, and snaps, “Jim, my quarters, now.” before the other man can so much as rattle off a greeting.

“Sure, I’ll be right there.”

Leonard snaps his communicator closed, tapping it against his mouth, and begins to pace.


	2. the t stands for trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I originally said this was only going to have six chapters, but it already grew legs and ran away from me, and blew my entire initial outline out of the water. Thanks for the positive response so far, guys! You make my day with comments. <3

In the amount of time it takes Jim to extract himself from whatever pre-shore leave activity he's wrapped up in, Leonard talks himself down from the impulsive precipice he's wandered up onto, though being in a more rational state of mind actually makes the entire situation seem worse. The momentary satisfaction he'd gotten from throwing Jocelyn off kilter was only going to last as long as it took for the truth to come out, and dragging Jim into the mess of his personal life is an all time low even for Leonard.  
  
It's a pity, too, because he hadn't been lying about all of it; he'd like for Jim and Jojo to meet one of these days, and going back to Georgia and facing his entire family in the wake of all that he'd left behind when he joined Starfleet was a damn daunting task on its own. The idea of having Jim there as a buffer is as appealing as it ought to be embarrassing, but like so many other things in his life, he's just going to have to get over it and face the music.  
  
He wishes he'd come to this epiphany before he commed his best friend and all but ordered him down to his quarters, but there wasn't much he could do about it now.  
  
As it was, the doors hissed open and he met Jim's furrowed brow with a slightly sheepish, mostly annoyed look of his own. "Sorry, Jim. You didn't have to come all the way down here."  
  
"That's not what you said five minutes ago," Jim returns, gaze sweeping his quarters before settling back on Leonard's face. "What's up? You sounded tense. More tense than usual, I mean."  
  
"Very funny." Leonard drags a hand through his hair, struggling to find a way to explain his bout of temporary insanity without absolutely mortifying himself, but he comes up short. "You know I'm going to visit my family this leave, right? I told you that."  
  
Understanding begins to creep into Jim's expression, but he only nods. "Yeah. You still get to, right?"  
  
Leonard blinks, and his mouth twists wryly. "Boy, do I."  
  
"So that's a good thing... right?" Jim steps around him, ducking his head a bit as his gaze falls to the PADDs littering Leonard's desk. "All I've heard you talk about for weeks is getting to see Jo."  
  
Unable to help himself, Leonard smiles at the mention of his daughter, and brings a hand up to jam through his hair. Ah, hell. "About that. I got a call from Jocelyn, which is always a delight."  
  
Jim's head lifts, and he raises an eyebrow. "You don't seem angry enough for things to have been really bad, though. So, what's up, Bones?"  
  
Trust Jim not to let him beat around the bush. Usually it's Leonard who has to pry the important things out of Jim with a crowbar -- and it doesn't feel all that great from the other end. Maybe he'll cut the kid some slack next time he doesn't want to talk about whatever fool thing he's done recently.  
  
Then again, Jim's got a way worse track record than Leonard does, so maybe he won't.  
  
Instead of explaining, Leonard picks up the closest PADD and taps away at it, grimacing when _James Kirk engaged_ immediately spits out several articles. They're all running the same ridiculous story alongside a picture of the two of them, and he's having a really hard time understanding how it was taken out of context in the first place. The quality isn't that great, which he supposes is more to its credit in this case, and the two of them are standing rather close together, but it's only because Leonard had been examining Jim's eye for a wound. The moron wouldn't keep his head still long enough for Leonard to get a good look, and that was the only reason he was cupping Jim's face with one hand, and he was leaning in as close as he was, obviously, to assess the damage.  
  
There was nothing in their body language that suggested anything romantic about the moment at all. (If anything, Leonard had been about thirty seconds from just knocking Jim over the head and dragging him to the nearest base clinic, so whoever looked at impending violence and saw romance needs to have their eyes _and_ head checked out.) They were standing close, but that was about it, and honestly, what was the world coming to if a couple of men couldn't stand next to each other without the world announcing their engagement?  
  
With a wordless grimace, he passes the PADD to Jim.  
  
Both his friend's eyebrows are up now, and he says slowly, "It's weird when you're all silent and cryptic," but he nevertheless drops his attention to the article.  
  
"You can't be both at once," Leonard replies automatically, and as he watches Jim's eyes flick back and forth, an uncomfortable itch starts up between his shoulders. "Basically, my ex-wife called to bawl me out about being engaged without telling her. Can you believe that?"  
  
"How do they jump straight to engaged?" For no reason that Leonard can immediately discern, Jim is amused, half-laughing at he flicks his merry gaze up and then back down. "Oh, wait, I see. Your ring. Wrong finger, though. Is there no such thing as journalistic integrity anymore?"  
  
“I’m glad this is so amusing for you.” His tone is caustic, and he turns away from Jim, striding across the room with short, stiff steps. The effect is lessened somewhat by the fact that he doesn’t have far to go, but he’ll take what’s left of his dignity while it’s still rattling around.  
  
Jim’s tone is chagrined enough to mollify Leonard slightly, but not much. “Sorry. That had to have been an awkward conversation. But hey, it’s not like you had to deal with explaining in person. Things could be… worse."  
  
The tell-tale way Jim’s voice trails off as Leonard’s shoulders hike up proves he’s been caught out, but Leonard foolishly tries to prolong the inevitable, sidestepping his desk and making a beeline for his closet.  
  
“ _Bones_.” For the genuine first time in his life, Leonard wishes for some sort of ship-wide disaster. It’s unlikely while they’re docked, but a man can dream. “You didn’t tell them."  
  
"It was stupid," he shoots back defensively, yanking articles of clothing from their hangers and folding them over one arm indiscriminately. It isn't as though he has a lot of casual clothing to pick from on the damn Enterprise; there's no room, for one, and two, he lives in his uniform just like any other senior member of the crew does. Still, it gives him something to do with his hands while he deliberately keeps his back to Jim. "She just pisses me off, so the conversation got away from me. Of course I'm going to clear things up before I go see the family."  
  
"Nah."  
  
He reaches the end of his closet and has little more than an armload of black slacks and Starfleet issued blue tops, and his annoyance carries him over to his bed, where his bag is already packed full to bursting with his civilian clothes. "She's just going to love this. I won't be able to show my face in Georgia for another seven years."  
  
"Bones, don't tell them."  
  
Leonard freezes and then slowly turns, disbelief and irritation warring on his face. "That's your master plan? Don't tell them? Lie to my family and end up the poor, sad sack whose own fiancé can't be bothered to show up to meet them?"  
  
There's something about the sparkle in Jim's eyes that should -- and does -- worry him. The other man waves the PADD between them, using it to gesture as he steps forward. "I'll go with you. I was just going to hang out with Scotty and Keenser anyway, and this'll be fun."  
  
"Fun." The grip on his favorite medical blues is so tight he's surprised he can't hear the fabric tearing. "Jim, you colossal ass. It will not be fun, and you're not going to make a spectacle out of me because you're bored."  
  
"Hey, whoa." Jim's hand settles between his shoulder blades, and Leonard tenses further, finally jerking his head to look Jim in the eye when the tone of his voice registers. He sounds solemn and a little apologetic, and against his better judgment, Leonard can feel some of his tension draining away the more Jim speaks. "That's not what I meant. It's just -- it's not really her business, is it? But she freaked out enough to call you and upset you, so why not stir the pot a little? You go back, show everybody you've moved on just as well as she has, and you've got your best friend as back-up in case the Georgian vultures decide to go for your soft spots."  
  
"I don't have soft spots," Leonard mutters, and a smile flickers over Jim's face, quickly smothered. He heaves a heavy sigh, and Jim's hand moves with it, pressing down at the small of his back. "But it would be nice to rub her nose in it a little. She said you weren't my type, you know. That you've got _a certain reputation_."  
  
Where repeating the words stokes the fire to Leonard's annoyance, Jim just chuckles, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepening with it. "So you're saying it'd _really_ mess with her if I showed up on your arm and charmed the pants off your family?"  
  
Reluctantly, a small smile tugs on Leonard's lips. "It would. And I do want you to meet Jojo," he adds, bringing one hand up to rub the back of his neck. "The two of you are gonna get on like a house on fire and drive me into an early grave, so I don't know _why_ I want you to meet her, but I do."  
  
Jim's hand slips away from his back as he scoops up Leonard's uniforms, winking at him over the bundle in his arms. "Because we're both awesome. Relax, Bones. You're going to have a good time."  
  
"Famous last words," he murmurs, and then, wincing as Jim artlessly restocks his closet, he adds, "And you'd better not charm the literal pants off anyone in my family."  
  
"And cheat on you, Bones?" Jim aims a pair of wide, innocent eyes over his shoulder. "Wouldn't dream of it."


	3. to save you from your old ways

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this." 

Leonard's grip on the steering wheel of their rented hover car borders on white-knuckled, and it doesn't seem to matter that this is the third time they've gone through this conversation since landing in Atlanta. He's done a lot of questionable things with Jim either at his right hand or leading the charge over the years, but the more he thinks about the farce he's about to act out for his family and friends in the name of sheltering his battered pride, the deeper the pit in his stomach gets.

If he'd wanted to back out, the chance would've been when they bought their tickets from San Diego to Atlanta, he knows. And Jim, damn him, has been unfailingly, unflappably chipper the entire time. If Leonard didn't know better, he'd think Jim was actually enjoying the prospect of driving out to bumfuck, Georgia and spending a week with an entire clan of people who will be doing nothing but poking and prodding at him for their entire stay.

Who is he kidding? Jim's a perverse creature. He probably _is_ looking forward to it.

He inhales, ready to start in on the well-worn one-sided conversation he’s entertained himself with since they hit the road, and then Jim’s hand settles on his thigh.

“Bones, relax. It’s not going to be a big deal. The important part of the trip is seeing your family, and it’ll go a lot smoother if you don’t have all this hanging over your head.” He squeezes Leonard’s leg and then pats it once, withdrawing his hand. “And then you can dramatically break up with me before we leave space dock and it’ll all be settled."

Leonard snorts, the knot in his stomach easing somewhat. “Got it all figured out, don’t you?"

“That’s what they pay me for,” Jim returns cheerfully, his attention focused on the radio as he reaches to fiddle with it. Before he can change the station, Leonard’s hand shoots out and smacks his fingers away, and he laughs. “Okay, point taken. How do you do that? You weren’t even looking."

“I’m talented.” Leonard aims a brief look at Jim, and for every inch of that Jim looks as relaxed and pleased as punch, Leonard feels wound tighter than a spring. “Listen, Jim… you didn’t have to do this. You still don’t, in fact."

Jim just rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out to the best of his ability in their cramped quarters. “I told you, it’s fine. You always expect things are going to go horribly, and they almost never do."

They round a corner, and streets begin unfolding out of his memory, a near perfect picture of the last time he was here. It’s almost exactly the same, except for how every damn thing in between has changed; he’d been headed the other direction, brandy on his breath and a bitterness smoking his lungs that damn near to suffocated him before he ever made it to Iowa. He’s come a long way from the man who slunk out of town with his tail between his legs and nothing but the clothes on his back, but even so, he can remember all too vividly exactly what that had felt like.

Coming home feels like easing into an old, uncomfortable pair of shoes, and he hates that Jocelyn has taken this from him, too. He can feel years’ worth of reflection and, yes, personal growth slipping away from him, and the steering wheel squeaks where his fingers slip against it as he turns.

“Jim, things go spectacularly wrong around you all the time,” he murmurs, but there’s more resignation than heat in his voice.

Jim lets that linger between them a moment, and out of the corner of his eye, Leonard can see him tapping his fingertips against his knee. “Sure, but things work out in the end. Think positive, Bones. It won’t kill you."

“There’s where you just might be wrong,” he mutters, but even as he says it, he catches himself smiling wryly. “Damn it. I can’t even say that with a straight face."

“That’s the spirit.” Jim shifts, his smile warming his tone. “So, any tips and tricks for winning over the McCoy clan? I’m assuming they’re not all grumpy bastards like you."

It’s as obvious an attempt at dragging amusement out of him, and Leonard indulges Jim, a habit he’s developed over the past few years and isn’t quite sure he knows how to shake off anymore. “Just be yourself. Well, a version of yourself in love with me,” he snorts, shaking his head as they turn down a long, winding driveway. “And if anyone says _bless your heart_  to your face, move on, that’s a hill even Sisyphus wouldn’t try to climb."

“I did know the bless your heart thing.” After a moment’s thought, Jim says levelly, “It’s going to be okay, Bones."

Alarmingly, infuriatingly, when Jim says as much in that confident, even tone, Leonard almost believes it. He slows the car as they approach a well-loved two-story house, and his chest gets tight at the sight of the old porch swing and the little garden wrapping around the front deck. Despite all the distance he’s tried to put between himself and this life, it still feels like home in a way that precious few places ever will, and he swallows hard.

He pulls up beside a smart-looking little car and lets the engine idle, gaze unfocused on the shadows playing across well-lit windows.

Jim waits him out, quiet at his side, and eventually, Leonard says, “Best get on with it, then.” and kills the engine, unbuckling with steady, sure hands.

Falling into step with one another is the most natural thing in the world, and Leonard doesn’t think twice when Jim’s arm brushing up against his on their way toward the porch. Their arrival can’t have gone unnoticed, and he’s just waiting to see who it is that comes out; to his dismay and annoyance, light spills over the deck and haloes none other than Jocelyn herself, and she shuts the door quickly behind her as they make their way up the steps. 

Going to be a stand off before he even gets in the front door, then.

Seeing her after so much time apart hits him like a wave, robs him of his breath and leaves him floundering for a moment. Jocelyn’s still just as beautiful as she was the day he met her — different beautiful, but stunning all the same, even with her expression pinched somewhere between suspicion and resignation. He knows that she doubted he’d really bring Jim along after all, and it galls him that her disappointment in him can still slither up under his skin and get to him, even though he’s got nothing to be ashamed of.

Well. Nothing that she _knows_  of to be ashamed of.

He can hear muted voices behind them, a comfortable, low burr, and she folds her hands in front of her waist, gaze heavy on his own. “Leonard. And you must be Mr. Kirk,” she adds, her moss green eyes sliding to his as she nods. “I’m Jocelyn Treadway."

“Jim,” the man in question corrects immediately, offering his right hand to shake, his smile and tone easy. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Glad to finally put a face to the name."

Something sparks in her eyes, but whether it’s good breeding or a superiority complex that has her grasping Jim’s hand lightly, Leonard couldn’t say. “Well, a face to _a_ name, I’m sure,” she says shortly, releasing his hand almost as soon as she’s grasped it.

“Joss,” Leonard says warningly, even as Jim completely derails him by taking his hand and squeezing. Jim’s palm is warm and his grip firm, and Leonard glances at him, eyebrows furrowed. Jim’s gaze is steady, and Leonard bites back the vitriol and settles for, “Let’s be civil. I’m here to visit my family and Joanna, and give them all a chance to get to know Jim, and you know I don’t have long."

The silence between them is tense for a few moments, and then her shoulders drop fractionally, and her entire expression softens. “I know. I apologize. I just… can I speak to you alone a minute, Leonard?"

She gestures with one slim hand, and his heart thuds once, painfully, at the garden path she’s pointed out. Once upon a time, he’d taken her for long walks down that very path and they’re good memories, solid ones; just like everything else, he supposes, they were bound to be soured.

Jim rubs a thumb over his knuckles and says, “Probably a good idea, Bones. I’ll wait here."

Forgetting Jocelyn a moment, he raises an eyebrow, angling slightly toward Jim as he speaks. “You, waiting patiently? That doesn’t bode well."

Jim grins back. “I’m not running the gauntlet all by myself. Go on. I want to meet Jo sometime this year."

And the thing is, Leonard knows that’s true; no matter the circumstances that arranged the two of them to be coming to Georgia together, Jim has spoken to Jo a handful of times over the years by vid-comm and that love affair in the making is entirely mutual. He would’ve gotten around to dragging Jim down here to meet her eventually, or introduced them if Jocelyn had ever agreed to bring Jo to see him at Starfleet HQ, this is just… bumping the timetable up a little.

Jim has a habit of doing that. One day, Leonard will get used to it.

Jim’s hand goes slack in his and he nods curtly to Jocelyn, following her down the steps and further away from the warmth and comfort of his granny’s front porch. He wipes his palm against the thigh of his jeans, slanting her a look as they meander out of Jim’s earshot, but she doesn’t say anything until they reach a corner and she stops.

“I’m not trying to start another fight, Leonard. I think we’ve had more than enough of that between us for two lifetimes.” She picks at her pinky nail with her thumb, a habit he knows means she’s nervous, or reluctant at the very least, but he doesn’t leap in to make whatever she has to say any easier like he might have once. The ring on her finger is a pretty powerful incentive against that, even without the rest of what’s still on the ground and in the air between them. “I wish you would’ve told me about Jim, but I talked to Jo and it seems like she already knew all about it, so I’m just going to have to live with being out of the loop of both of your lives."

He struggles to grasp a patience he doesn’t possess anymore, sliding his hands into his pockets and biting back the harsh rebuke he wants to toss at her. “You didn’t exactly keep me appraised of yours and Clay’s glorious reunion. Not that I would’ve wanted you to,” he adds as her mouth opens to protest, “That’s just how it is now."

She glances away from him, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, and admits after a moment, “I thought that was fine. After all that ugliness between us, I was glad you were gone and… I’m sure you were glad to be as gone from me as you could be. But Leonard, we can’t live like this. We don’t love each other anymore, but we’ve got to try to like each other, or it’s Joanna who’s going to suffer."

He knows that. He _does_. The idea that she thinks she needs to explain that to him has contempt and accusation bubbling up his throat like bile, but he swallows it back down, because that’s the pattern between them. She keeps her head and plays him like a fiddle, and he’s the one who walks away with less than he started with, every single time.

_Think positive, Bones. It won’t kill you._

The fact that it’s Jim Kirk’s voice in the back of his head, yanking him back from the edge of a fight brewing, is enough to make him laugh. It startles Jocelyn, and she turns back to him, expression sharp and then startled in turn.

“Sorry. It’s just — I’m all set up to be real pissed at you still, Jocelyn, for so many things. And all I can hear is that damn kid’s voice telling me to think positive and talking me down from a fight, and if you knew Jim at all, you’d know why that’s a sign that my life can’t get any more ass-end up than it already is.” As one, they turn to look at Jim, who seems to be deep in conversation with Clay of all people. “But you’re right. The older Jo gets, the harder it is on her to have the two of us at odds. It won’t be easy, but…"

But he has to try. For Joanna, if nothing else.

“It’s good to see you, Len,” Jocelyn says finally, drawing his attention back to her. There’s something wistful in her face for just a moment, and then she shakes her head. “But I’m glad we’re on the same page about this. Joanna’s already in bed for the night. We weren’t sure how late you were getting in, so we told her you’d be showing up bright and early tomorrow. I thought you could surprise her,” Jocelyn adds, almost hesitant. “She’s… all she’s been talking about is seeing you, and meeting _Captain Kirk._ "

It’s not quite the truce they’d called at the end of their marriage, and that’s a good thing, because he’d never hated Jocelyn more than he did when they were pretending everything was all right for the sake of the little four year-old who saw far too much of their marriage unraveling despite all their best efforts. It’s also nothing like what they used to be when they actually did enjoy one another, not even when they were friends, but it’s… something. 

As long as he tells himself it’s for Joanna, he can stomach a whole hell of a lot, he’s found. He can even tolerate Jocelyn, though he thinks he’ll only be able to manage that in very small does.

When they hit the porch, Clay smiles and busses Jocelyn’s cheek, and Leonard looks away. He catches Jim watching him, a question in his eyes, and shakes his head slightly.

“Come on, Jim. Let’s go throw you to the Georgia wolves."

“Can’t wait,” Jim laughs, clapping him on the shoulder and sending him through the door first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "When You Were Young" by The Killers, which is my current McKirk jam. "you sit there in your heartache / waiting on some beautiful boy to / to save you from your old ways"


	4. that little lie they call love

With as late as it is, the only other person still up is Leonard’s grandmother, who takes one look at him and near to bursts into tears. He supposes he deserves that, given how many times the Enterprise and her entire crew has almost died since the last time he set foot on Georgia soil, but it’s still a little bit unexpected.  
  
He’s at least not as floored as Jim, whose eyes have gone wider than Leonard’s ever seen them, and the absurdity of his expression is enough that Leonard can’t quite hold back a snort of laughter.  
  
“Don’t _laugh_ , you ass of a boy. Get over here and hug me."  
  
The moment his granny’s arms are around him something clicks into place and he finally relaxes, home settling around his shoulders like a well-loved jacket. He’s aware that Jim’s still in the room, and even that Jocelyn and Clay can’t be far behind, but he doesn’t care. When he draws back to cup her face, swiping at where tears are gathering at the corners of her eyes, his own are suspiciously bright.  
  
“Missed you, Gran,” he says, dropping a kiss on her forehead.  
  
She closes her eyes on a deep breath, mouth pinched into a smile, and slips out of his arms. Bemused, Leonard watches her sidestep him and hold her arms out impatiently for Jim, whose expression shifts suddenly from fondness to something Leonard has rarely ever seen: uncertainty.  
  
“What, you want to marry my grandson but you can’t give me a hug? Come here.” If she catches Leonard’s reflexive flinch, his grandmother doesn’t let on. She just waits for Jim’s expression to smooth out as he steps over and folds her into a heartfelt, if awkward, hug. When Jim begins to pull away, she rises on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his cheek, whispering something in his ear that Leonard doesn’t quite catch.  
  
Whatever it is, Jim’s smiling sheepishly by the time he slips an arm around Leonard’s grandmother’s shoulders, and it looks like the famous Kirk charm has already worked its magic. Usually the kid at least has to open his mouth to win somebody over, but apparently, his granny’s weak for a pair of blue eyes.  
  
She’s not the only one in the family who can claim that particular soft spot, though, so he’ll let it slide.  
  
“I like your boy, Leonard,” Gran announces, hooking an arm around his waist and walking them both toward the sitting room. “Or at least, I like the look of him. Let’s go sit a spell, and then I’ll let the two of you get some rest, seeing as you’ve flown across the entire country and look about dead on your feet."  
  
Neither of them have a chance to get a word in edgewise as she leads them away, and that’s how it always is with Leonard’s grandmother. She’s a hurricane in a skirt and he can only hope that Joanna grows up to be just like her, though considering the level of sass he’d experienced on their last call, she’s already well on her way.  
  
Jocelyn and Clay are already seated together on the sofa when they walk into the sitting room, their knees bent toward one another, and though Leonard feels a slight pang at the sight of them, it’s nothing compared to what he thought he’d feel when confronted by the two of them as a couple again. It bothers him a little, in the way that he supposes it would have always bothered him to see Jocelyn with anyone else, and he takes some comfort in the fact that her gaze lingers on the distance that _isn’t_ between the two of them when he and Jim drop onto the loveseat.  
  
Jim, the little shit, can’t possibly have plopped his happy ass down so that their thighs were pressed tight together on accident, but he looks for all the world like it’s a non-event. He’s good, Leonard will give him that.  
  
“Thank you for having me on such short notice,” Jim is saying, one arm casually draped behind Leonard as he smiles at his grandmother. “Bones was just going to come down himself, catch up and test the waters, but you know how it is. Once the cat's out of the bag, no putting it back in."  
  
Surprisingly, it’s Clay who speaks up, amusement rich in his tone. “No such thing as a secret in Georgia. Points for effort, though.”  
  
“Especially not an engagement,” Jocelyn adds, a touch of reproach in her tone.  
  
Leonard’s shoulders tense, but Jim shifts slightly, his thumb brushing distractingly against Leonard’s shoulder. “Now, I know we’ve just met, but you know Bones better than that. There’s no way he’d get engaged to someone without getting Miss Joanna’s seal of approval.”  
  
Jocelyn’s lips thin, her grip on Clay’s hand tightening. “That’s what I thought as well,” she says, gaze jerking between the two men. “But it seems I was wrong."  
  
“We’re not engaged,” Leonard grinds out, and in the silence that follows, Jim adds with a wink, “Yet. Don’t tell Bones, but I’ve got plans to win every last one of you over, and then we'll see about that."  
  
The flush darkening Jocelyn’s face is pure embarrassment, and she demands, “Why did you let me think otherwise, Leonard?"  
  
“You wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise. It's not my fault you believe every tabloid you read,” he shoots back, and before it can escalate into the next world war, Gran clears her throat.  
  
“Everyone’s tired and y’all have a little bit of a drive home, so this might be a conversation better suited to tomorrow.” Though her voice is pleasant, the command is evident in her tone as Gran stands up and brushes off the skirt of her dress. “You’ll be by for lunch tomorrow?"  
  
Leonard and Jocelyn are locked in a furious staring contest, so it’s left to Clay to say, “Wouldn’t miss it. Come on, honey,” he adds, rising and drawing her up against his side in a smooth and practiced move. “It was nice meeting you, Jim."  
  
Without having budged from his position plastered to Leonard’s side, Jim grins. “Pleasure’s all mine, Clay."  
  
“I’ll just see the two of them out.”  
  
It takes Leonard a moment to buckle his temper back down where it belongs. Truth be told, he likely manages it faster due to Jim's warm, solid presence at his side, and that thumb that keeps rubbing his shoulder, almost as though Jim's forgotten he's doing it. Like anything else in the South, saying goodbye takes time, and though Leonard can hear the faint buzz of conversation happening a couple of rooms away, he doesn't strain himself to try to pick out the words. There'd be no sense in winding himself up and having no one to take it out on except Jim, especially considering he's done nothing to deserve it.  
  
This time.  
  
"You know," Jim begins thoughtfully, drawing Leonard's gaze to him suspiciously. "If this is going to work, you're going to have to pretend to like me at some point."  
  
"I do like you, though sometimes I admit it's against my better judgment," Leonard mutters, twisting in the circle of Jim's half-hearted embrace. "And trust me, if I start falling head over ass every time you say something, they'll see right through this farce."  
  
After a moment, Jim just smiles and shakes his head. "So you're telling me Bones in love is no different from Bones every day of the week? Man, how'd you get married in the first place?"  
  
"Shut up, you infant."  
  
Coming from anyone else, the barb would have lit the fuse on a temper tantrum, but there's something about the way that Jim teases him that doesn't get under his skin like that. In all honesty, it never has; they have their fights and the blow off steam when they need to, but when it comes down to it, he can't say that he's ever gotten the sick, greasy feeling after one of their fights that he always had with Joss. Which is funny, because at the time, he'd thought he was marrying his best friend.  
  
Apparently, it took actually meeting his best friend to realize how ill-suited he and Joss had been from the beginning. Not that he'd trade the time they had together for anything -- couldn't, since it had given him Joanna, and as much as he resented it at the time, started him on the path that led him to being a better man than he would have otherwise -- but there's some peace in knowing that they never would have truly worked. His grandmother had told him, shortly after they separated, that she thought they were too different, and it was a damn shame, but Leonard didn't think that was quite right, either.  
  
He and Jim were night and day, sun and moon, and they got along just fine. He wasn't actually marrying the guy, of course, but --  
  
"Earth to Bones," is spoken right next to his ear, and he about jumps out of his skin, heat crawling down his collar as he realizes how close Jim is. "You fall asleep with your eyes open? You haven't done that since-"  
  
"Fuller's class, yeah," he cuts in, rolling his eyes. "No. I was woolgathering."  
  
There's a pause, and Jim asks softly, pained, "It's only going to get worse the longer we're here, isn't it? I thought I banned you from metaphors and quirky southern phrases."  
  
Leonard's mouth kicks up at the corner, and he twists, raising his eyebrows at Jim. "You're the one who wanted to come down south, darlin'."  
  
Despite the exasperation on Jim's face, there's a fondness beneath the heat of his look that makes Leonard's smile widen, and if not for his grandmother clearing her throat at the doorway, he's pretty sure they could have bantered all night.  
  
"No canoodling on the couch, boys," Gran says briskly, lips twitching when Leonard rolls his eyes and leans back, and Jim pretends to chase after him. "Take the nice spare room, Len, and try to get at least a _little_ sleep. Your cousins are coming over tomorrow too, and Lord knows how many kids with them. I can't keep track anymore."  
  
Message delivered, Gran leans down to kiss him on the cheek and, to Jim's clear surprise, he receives the same treatment.  
  
"You're a dirty old woman," Leonard grouses, standing and stretching some of the kinks out of his back from a full day's travel.  
  
Without missing a beat, Gran shoves at him and asks, "Where the hell do you think you get it from? Bringing a cute young thing like Jim home and trying to act like Saint McCoy, as though I'll believe that nonsense for a moment. Get to bed, both of you, and try to keep it down. I'm not deaf yet."  
  
Jim doesn't say much of anything until they're in the bedroom, which would surprise Leonard more if his grandmother wasn't literally propelling them there with one hand planted between each of their shoulder blades. The nice guest room is Leonard's favorite, and he's absurdly pleased to get it even knowing family will be stomping in and out of the house over the course of the next week -- because of course they will, now that Leonard's back to visit for the first time since the divorce -- and he wastes no time dumping their duffels at the foot of the bed and sitting down on the mattress to test its springs.  
  
"Your grandma," Jim begins, in a tone that's almost reverent, "is awesome."  
  
"She's incorrigible," Leonard returns, but there's a smile in his voice as he kicks his shoes off and stretches his toes out, groaning happily. "Gran's... well, she's something else."  
  
Without even the slightest nod to modesty, Jim peels off his shirt and wads it up in his hands, voice softening. "Yeah, I can tell. Loves the stuffing out of you."  
  
Leonard twists on the bed, brow furrowed incredulously. "The stuffing?"  
  
With a laugh, Jim tosses his balled-up shirt at Leonard. "When in Rome, Bones. When in Rome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from George Strait's "Blue Clear Sky."
> 
> "you swear you've had enough / you're ready to give up / on that little lie they call love / then out of the blue clear sky"


	5. a long way to go ’til midnight

He’s the kind of tired that makes him too strung out to sleep, as frustrating as it is predictable. The carnival ride that his emotions have taken him on over the past twenty-four hours is as formidable as one of those old-timey rollercoasters, and without the distraction of space pressing down on the windows or his ex-wife’s nostrils flaring at him, there’s little for him to do but reflect on the enormity of the situation he’s found himself in.  
  
Jim would say he’s brooding, but Jim’s in the bathroom getting ready for bed, so he doesn’t get any input.  
  
Hands laced behind his head, Leonard scowls at the ceiling, letting his vision go unfocused on the fan spinning over his head in a tired but regular cycle.  
  
“You’ve gotten yourself in a damn pickle, McCoy,” he mutters, inhaling deeply as the toilet flushes and light spills into the bedroom.  
  
“En-suite bathroom is pretty fancy digs, Bones. I should’ve fake proposed to you a long time ago."  
  
Jim drops onto the bed beside him with a subtle bounce, rubbing a hand down his face in an attempt to chase away some of the fatigue of the day. Leonard snorts, turning his head very slightly. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to the lap of luxury. It’s going to be hell in a handbasket when half the damn family shows up tomorrow, and every single one of them’s going to be trying to take you apart with a fine-toothed comb."  
  
Laughing into his palm, Jim says, “You know me. I like the attention."  
  
“Masochist."  
  
Swinging his legs up onto the bed, Jim settles over the top of the quilt, knocking his bare foot against Leonard’s. Maturely, Leonard kicks back at him, but his effort is half-hearted at best; he is exhausted, as much as his mind won’t let him rest, and he’s not looking forward to Jim flopping and flailing all night. It’s not going to be a restful night in any sense of the word, and he sighs heavily as he thinks it, rolling onto his side and folding his pillow in half before he wedges it under his head.  
  
Jim’s looking at him, eyes hooded and still somehow unnaturally bright even in the dim light of the bedroom, and he says sleepily, “You’ve got no idea, Bones."  
  
He gets like this sometimes, when he’s half-asleep and not drunk as a skunk. Not to say that he's not introspective and intelligent on a good day, because no matter how he presents himself, Leonard's always known there was more to Jim Kirk than what met the eye. When he gets cryptic, though, it's usually lubricated with alcohol or exhaustion, and more than that, whatever mysteries he's trying to impart tend to stay that way. For all he gives the appearance of being an open book, Jim keeps a lot of things locked down tight, and Leonard had learned early on that there was a certain way you could press Jim for information, and only that way.

Leonard hasn’t seen much of these kinds of moods lately, with the job keeping both of them busy in their respective domains on the ship and separate quarters besides, but he remembers them well enough from their shared academy days. They hadn’t been roommates, but only in the sense that there had been no official documentation stating as much. Between late-night study sessions and even later-night drinking ones, they’d rarely spent more than a few nights running in separate rooms, especially toward the end.  
  
He hadn’t realized how much he missed this — the quiet moments, the ease and familiarity that came with just spending time together as best friends, no rank or duty sitting heavily between them — until he had it back. Affection swells in his chest, softens the angry buzzing of his thoughts as they settle into more comfortable positions, each grateful that the guest bed is large enough for both of them to stretch their legs a little.  
  
Jim blinks, slow and heavy, and Leonard smiles very slightly.  
  
“You’re thinking really loud,” Jim complains, shifting so that he’s on his side as well, head pillowed on his arm. “’s making it hard to sleep."  
  
“Shut up,” Leonard scoffs, reaching out to shove Jim in the shoulder. “You’ll be snoring in five minutes, and _that’ll_ make it hard for _me_ to sleep."  
  
Jim yields to the pressure of Leonard’s hand, letting the momentum carry him onto his back, and waves a hand in the darkness between them. “You’ll live."  
  
They lapse into silence, and that’s wrong, too. He’s gotten too used to sleeping on a starship, as horrifying as the thought is. There’s never a lot of noise, per se, but there’s a thrum and an energy to the Enterprise that’s wholly manufactured and completely, utterly different from the ambient noise of a second-story bedroom of an old house in Georgia. He never thought he’d see the day when it was too quiet to sleep, and he’ll never admit that he misses the artificial hum of the damned tin can he’s spent more time in than out of lately, but there it is.  
  
“Bones?"  
  
Jim’s foot bumps against his again, and this time, it rests there. Leonard doesn’t open his eyes, but he does make a small querying noise, brows furrowing slightly.  
  
“I just wanted to say thanks. And sorry, I guess. I’ll try to distract the wolves so you can have some time with Jo."  
  
He’s being nonsensical, and if it weren’t for the gauze stretched over Leonard’s thoughts, he’d devote a little more energy to parsing what Jim’s trying to say. Even the minimal effort he’s expending annoys him, so he reaches out to smack Jim lightly, palm thudding against his chest.  
  
“Go to sleep. ‘m tired, and you’re making as much sense as lipstick on a pig."  
  
After a beat of silence, Jim accuses, “Now you’re just messing with me."  
  
Leonard fists his hand in Jim’s shirt, using it as an anchor as he thumps his chest three times. “Go. To. Sleep."  
  
A warm hand settles over the top of his, squeezing lightly, and Jim says, "Okay, Bones."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Marching Band's "For Your Love" - "we got a long way to go til midnight / this year we capture the feel"
> 
> I swear, the chapter titles of this fic are just my McKirk FST. Anyway, this little scene wouldn't let me sleep last night, so a super early (and super short, oops) update!


	6. break my own heart before you can

Despite his dire predictions the night before, Leonard sleeps better than he can remember sleeping in months. It's got a little something to do with the bed, he's sure, and a little something to do with knowing he's planted firmly on solid ground; even unconscious, that's the kind of thing that sinks into a man's soul and comforts him on a deeply primal level. On top of being put through the ringer from the day before, it would have actually been strange for him to sleep fitfully, even having Jim sprawled out on the bed beside him.

Or, more accurately, crawling all over him in bed, which is where they've ended up.

He's still drowsy enough that he can't even muster the energy to remind himself why sharing a bed with Jim is a bad idea, and Jim's still asleep, so any protest would fall on deaf ears anyway. There's a warm patch of skin above his hip where both their shirts have managed to get bunched up in the night, no doubt due to how impossible it is for Jim to be still and peaceful even while sleeping. When he's awake, the man's a loop of endless energy feeding into itself, turning the gears of his quick, smart-ass mind and running his fool mouth too fast for anyone outside of Spock to keep up with. Knocked out, there's nowhere for all that energy to go but out his limbs, Leonard's convinced, and as he shifts beneath Jim, he wonders what new bruises he'll find.

Jim's hell on a man's calves, and has been since he met the asshole. 

Speaking of, Jim begins to stir on top of him, turning his face into the crook of Leonard's neck and exhaling heavily. His breath is warm, the weight of him more than pleasant, and trapped in the haze of not-quite-awake enough to listen to the little voice in the back of his head screaming bloody murder at him, Leonard smiles and settles a hand in the small of his back. His fingertips slide beneath the hem of Jim's shirt, thumb grazing along the dip in his spine, and he feels... settled.

It's a dangerous way to feel around Jim Kirk and he knows it, but the truth's skimming somewhere just beyond his will to confront it, so he lets himself have the moment. It won't last, and he'd made his peace with that a long time ago, so there's no real harm to anyone but himself.

At least, not until Jim burrows in closer, and Leonard knows that letting this go on any longer is pitiful at best, and outright taking advantage his friend at the worst. As willing as Jim has been to go along with all of this, it's the mark of how strong their friendship is, and nothing more. You'd think, after all the years of telling himself that, that he'd get it through his thick head once and for all. 

Well, it's an old ache now. A man tells himself no enough times, he'll eventually get used to it, and what he and Jim have is damn good. No reason to dredge up old wishes and put his fool heart through that circus act again.

He closes his eyes, lifting his hand from Jim's back with some small regret, and then pinches his hip hard.

Jim, predictably, manages to not only launch himself off Leonard in one move, but get his feet tangled in the quilt in the process. He supposes he deserves the knee to his thigh and the elbow to his gut, but damn it, that doesn't stop Leonard from kicking at him anyway.

"Christ above, Jim, can't you do anything peacefully? Damn it, knock it off!"

"You _pinched_  me!" The outrage in his voice burns through the drowsiness, and at the foot of the bed, Jim's head pops up. He's blinking rapidly, clearly trying to wake himself up properly, and mutters, "You've always been a grumpy bastard first thing in the morning, but the abuse is new. I can't believe you literally kicked me out of bed."

Leonard sits up, rubbing at the damp patch on his neck with a scowl. "I can't believe you drooled all over my neck like some kind of demented vampire."

They glare at one another for a long moment, but neither can hold it: Jim breaks first, shaking his head and laughing, and even Leonard has to relent a little bit. "You're such an ape," Leonard grouses, kicking the quilt the rest of the way off his legs as Jim stands up and runs a hand over his hair, trying in vain to tame it.

"Yeah, and you're... a rooster." With a cheeky grin, Jim points to his own head, then toward Leonard. "Cock-a-doodle-doo, Bones. You look ridiculous."

"I," Leonard says, rising with as much dignity as he can muster, "am taking a shower. Gran'll have coffee going if you want to head downstairs, but step lightly. Jo probably won't be awake for a while yet, even if it is her birthday. Kid sleeps like she's trying for a coma if you let her."

"Her what?" Leonard has almost made it to the bathroom, duffel in hand, when Jim grips him by the arm and wheels him around, eyes wide. "Are you kidding me? It's Joanna's birthday and you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't?" He squints, reaching up to scratch his cheek with his free hand, and tries to shrug Jim's grip off. "Well, there was a lot going on. I've got to go into town and pick up her present. Had it shipped to store, just in case I couldn't make it after all."

Understanding passes over Jim's face, chased by something that looks, for just a moment, like guilt. There isn't time to comment on it, however; Jim releases him and immediately bends over his duffel, muttering to himself as he pulls some rumpled but clean clothes free. Leonard takes it for the dismissal it is, dropping his bag on the closed toilet lid and turning to eye the shower with barely concealed glee.

The Enterprise has her own charms, but nothing beats a good, old-fashioned shower, especially when a man feels like the bottom of his own shoe. He doesn't linger, even if he wants to, because he does have to drive into town and do a few things before all of God and country descends upon his grandmother's house for his baby girl's party. He does let himself enjoy the novelty of local-made soap and not knocking his elbows against shower walls too narrow for any self-respecting grown man, and he takes a moment to thank his lucky stars that neither he nor Jim woke up in a position that would have made the morning even more awkward.

He's a doctor, so he would have brushed it off as the nothing it absolutely would have been, but he's relieved to not have to sneak into his grandmother's shower to get himself off like a nervous teenager. That would blur the lines even more than they already have been, and Leonard feels uncomfortable enough lying to his entire family about dating Jim.

He kills the spray of water and frowns, guilt a heavy, leaden ball in his stomach. Yanking Jocelyn's tail is one thing, and he'd had some fun with that. Even with his Gran, if it gets her off his back about moving on after the divorce, he's willing to let her believe there's something going on between him and Jim. There's no real harm in it, at least if it's only for a little while, but there's no way he's going to lie to his baby girl. He gets precious little time with her as it is, and he doesn't want something like this to come between them and drive a wedge, all because he thought it'd be funny to get one up on Joss for once.

Lord, the more he thinks about it, the more pathetic it is. He steps out of the shower, toweling himself off, and feels a little sick to his stomach. He's going to have to come clean and just suffer the embarrassment born from prolonging a ridiculous misunderstanding far longer than any sane person would have, and _then_  he's going to have to suffer people asking him why the hell he went along with it. The shrewd ones will skim too close to the truth for comfort, and then Leonard will get pissed off and ruin his daughter's birthday, and damn it, why had he thought this was a good idea to begin with?

"Because you're a fucking idiot," he says, with more force than he means to.

"Talking to yourself in there, old man?" 

He scowls at the door, and then takes it one step further and flips Jim off through the wood paneling, because technically, he'd instigated the entire mess that Leonard now finds himself in. Sure, he went along with it, and he ought to know better -- so most of the blame is with him -- but he'll saddle Jim with his fair share, too.

As he's shoving his legs into his pants, still damp from his shower and sticking to his jeans because of it, he says, "You'd better be decent out there, and you'd better have coffee."

"Decent? Depends on your definition." Jim's voice is bright and merry, and that means he either managed to escape the kitchen unscathed or he and Gran put their heads together to cause more trouble. At this point, he wouldn't put it past either of them. "Coffee's here if you ask nicely, though."

The bathroom door swings open, Leonard finger-combing his bangs with one hand and holding the other out for a mug. Wordlessly, Jim passes it over, and by the time he can see the bottom of it, Leonard feels almost human.

"You're welcome," Jim says, amused, gaze flicking over the outfit Leonard chose for the day. "Nice shirt. Who got it for you?"

Fondly, Leonard rolls his eyes. "Shut up, or I'm never taking your fashion advice again. Listen, Jim--"

With a groan, Jim holds his hands up in supplication. "Please, whoever's listening, tell me I don't have to talk Bones down again from the same argument we had ten times in the hovercar yesterday. I am only one man, and my tongue is no where near as talented as our mutual friend's is, at least not in this--hey!"

Jim tucks one ankle behind the other to evade Leonard's half-hearted attempt to kick at him, returning the rude gesture that Leonard aimed at him earlier. "I don't remember you being this mean at the academy."

"Relax. I wasn't actually going to kick you, you big baby." It'd be easy to fall into the back-and-forth bickering that's always been so comfortable between them, and he knows that's what Jim's aiming for, but he can't let this slide. "Listen. I appreciate all you've done so far, but I can't lie to Jojo. I _won't_ ," he amends, fisting one hand on his hip. "So, jig's going to be up as soon as she is. If you want to get out of here before it really hits the fan, I understand."

Jim blinks at him, a faint frown line creasing between his eyes, but he doesn't say anything for a long moment. He just studies Leonard, settling both hands on top of his knees, and it's obvious now why some members of the crew still have a hard time looking Jim in the eye for prolonged periods of time. Being the subject of such intense scrutiny is damned uncomfortable, even when it's not particularly maliciously intended. There's something about a man having eyes that blue and a gaze that steady; it shouldn't be legal.

Then Jim cocks his head. "What if we brought her in on it?"

"What?" He demands, eyebrows flying up. "No. Absolutely not. I'm not going to ask her to lie to her mama."

"Bones." Jim holds up a hand, and to Leonard's dismay, he quiets. "Think about it. Jocelyn _already_  talked to her about it. Remember, she said that Jo apparently already knew, which means you'd have had to have this talk with her either way. She's got to be, what, turning fourteen? Fifteen?" 

"Fourteen."

"Fourteen," Jim continues, rising to his feet and warming to the idea. "So, not a child. She'll understand how awkward and embarrassing it would be to explain things now that they've snowballed this far, and she'll probably get a kick out of being in on a secret with her dad. If I'm wrong, _then_  you can come out and expose your soft underbelly to every gossip this side of the Mason-Dixon line. Why borrow trouble?"

When Jim puts it that way, it almost sounds reasonable. And that, right there, is the danger of James Tiberius Kirk: he could convince a man he didn't know his own middle name if you gave him long enough to work you around to it. It's one part charisma and another part fierce intelligence, which is a commendable combination in a Starfleet captain, and an equally large pain in the ass when it's coming from a man's best friend.

Jim leans in, an inexplicable little smile on his face, and gives Leonard's shoulder a shake. "Trust me, Bones." 

Even though it's probably a colossally terrible idea, Jim's sold it well. There's not a whole lot that he and Joanna can call just theirs, and while something as childish and immature as this certainly isn't high on his list of father-daughter bonding experiences, he has to admit, it will appeal to her sense of mischief. On that front, she's very much like his grandmother, God help them all. Not only that, it would solve the problem of keeping her in the dark. If he leaves it all up to Jo, then maybe it doesn't make him such a terrible person.

Oh, who's he kidding? This entire experience is so far beneath him he ought to be scraping bedrock. 

Jim's thumb presses down over his collarbone, and Leonard hikes his shoulders up, relieved that any flush on his skin could easily be explained away by the shower he's just stepped out of. "Fine. I'll talk to Jo. You, take a shower. You stink."

On a laugh, Jim slides his hand up to pat Leonard’s cheek. “You say the sweetest things."

“Only to you, Jim." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title comes from "Heart's Content" but Brandi Carlile. "maybe we hurt who we love the most / maybe it's all we can stand / maybe we walk through the world as ghosts / break my own heart before you can"

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on Tumblr at doctorplum!


End file.
